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“I’m happy to tell you everything, but first, would it be okay if we took a look in Felix’s office?”
“Why do you need to do that?” She hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find.”
“I’m not sure, either,” Sasha admitted. “Hopefully something that will help make more sense out of all of this so I can totally put your mind at ease.” With the way he’d been giving his wife an SUV and jewelry, she doubted that. But she wanted answers herself.
Mrs. Santos twisted her wedding ring. “I suppose that would be okay.” With a trembling hand, she gestured toward the hallway. “It’s the third door on the left.”
“Thank you.” Sasha squared her shoulders, hyperaware of Gregorio’s solid presence at her back as they stood and made their way down the hall.
Felix’s office was exactly what she’d expected—rich mahogany furniture, leather-bound books lining built-in shelves. But the meticulous precision of the space set off warning bells. Every pen was aligned, every paper perfectly stacked. It wasn’t just tidy—it was obsessively perfect.
With his elbow, Gregorio closed the door behind them. Then he pulled a pair of latex gloves from inside his jacket pocket and locked the door.
“I’ll start with the desk,” she said.
“I’ve got the bookcase.”
She donned a pair of gloves that she kept in her purse.
The first two drawers yielded nothing but ordinary office supplies, arranged with the same level of organization as everything else.
When she reached the third, she brushed against an inconsistency in the wood. “I may have something.”
Gregorio joined her.
She pulled out the drawer and carefully pried up the false bottom, revealing a sleek black ledger bound in leather. “Bingo.”
After flicking a glance toward the door, just in case, she flipped open the cover.
The pages were filled with small, meticulous handwriting—columns of numbers, dates, and coded entries. Some names she recognized as businesses that Santos ran. And others she recalled from an investigation at Hawkeye.
But one word stopped her cold.
Jesus.“Gregorio,” she said softly, beckoning him over.
Instantly, he was beside her, leaning over her shoulder, reassuring, protective.
He swore in a language she didn’t recognize.“Argentum?”
To the rest of the world, the company was a philanthropic one. But she knew better, as did Gregorio.
They were organized crime, with enforcement arms all over the world.
What the hell was Santos up to?
The ledger was more than evidence—it was a roadmap of Felix Santos’ secrets, and possibly a death warrant for anyone who found it.
Her mouth dried, and she met Gregorio’s gaze.
How much danger was Santos in? And did this have anything to do with who was stalking her?
“May I?”
“Go ahead.” She stepped aside.
While Gregorio flipped through the ledger, she dug out her cell phone.
“Good idea.” He placed the book down on the desk, and she began snapping pictures of each page.